


Russian Roulette

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-16
Updated: 2003-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-27 05:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14418870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: Mulder finds a shred of hope while in the gulag.





	Russian Roulette

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Russian Roulette

## Russian Roulette

### by Obfusc8er and bcfan

TITLE: Russian Roulette  
AUTHORS: Obfusc8er and bcfan  
DISTRIBUTION: Ephemeral, Gossamer, and Mulder in Jep. All others please let one of us know first. SPOILERS: Tunguska/Terma  
RATING: PG-13 for graphic imagery  
CLASSIFICATION: V, MA/MT, Terma fill-in KEYWORDS: none  
SUMMARY: Mulder finds a shred of hope while in the gulag. DISCLAIMER: We do not own Mulder. Just borrowing. 

The gray stone floor is an unforgiving cradle to his wounded body. Dark, slimy walls conceal the outside world. In the time before, whip and nightstick had fallen sharply, one after the other. Mulder breathes in panting gasps, the freezing air stabbing his lungs. He can't prevent the low rumble of pain from escaping his raw throat. He feebly attempts to raise his head and get his bearings, but no - his moans are a signal for the guards' return. 

Fingers scrabble in the dirt as he is turned onto his stomach, his arms pinned spread-eagle under rough work boots. Mulder's back arches in reflexive spasm as the whip cracks down hard, and his hands clench ineffectively at the air. Lines of fire eat at his skin as the whip flays his shuddering back. He feels warm, wet rivulets lazily trace the outline of his ribs and he screams in pain. His captors appear as white smiles in the gloom. They seem to be admiring their work and savoring the desperate tears running down his face. Mulder strains to hear shouted questions he can't begin to answer. His world begins to gray like the walls of his cell. He feels himself sinking, hopeless. 

At the dim edge of consciousnes, Mulder sighs as the beatings pause. He feels his hair grabbed and pulled back, but he loses track of the procedings. Mulder is dropped to the ground in an untidy heap. The last guard to leave spits in his direction, then leers. Their crude jokes echo inside his head. 

* * *

The next time he awakens, Mulder bites his lip hard to keep silent, but he can't prevent the shakes. His stomach quivers with fear. His ribs are prominent, his ashen skin clammy with pain sweats. He closes his eyes and smells his own acrid sweat and blood. He knows he's in trouble. He might not make it, but this thought is strangely distant. He feels himself sinking into apathy. When he forces his eyes open, they are glazed and unfocused from long-term sleep deprivation. 

Suddenly the cell door is thrust open, and Mulder shudders even more violently, shouting, "No, don't..." as they jam a needle full of viscous fluid into the back of his neck. The hot, stinging drug travels throughout his body, paralyzing his limbs. The guards lift him up and carry him awkwardly out of his cell. Mulder's arms and legs dangle down, swinging, as he sees the ceiling of the hallway scroll past. A trail of saliva runs down the side of his face. 

He feels so empty, so insignificant, that he's ashamed of himself. He knows Scully would want him to resist with everything in him, but he is just too weak this time. He cannot imagine what they have waiting for him. Mulder regrets coming to this place, but he finds some reassurance in the knowledge that Scully is safe, far away from here. He cares for her above all else, and he could not stand to see this happen to her, too. That would be unbearable. 

The pounding of his guards' boots slows as he is brought into large, high-ceiling room. The smell of fear permeates the air, and he hears the screams and cries of men echo throughout the cavernous space. The guards drop him onto a raised slab. The cold surface raises goose bumps on Mulder's bare skin. His field of vision is covered by a hexagonal grid as they pull wire fencing down tight over his vulnerable body. He is immobilized, and can see the shadow of others out of the corner of his eyes. His heart fills with dread as an evil laugh floats down upon him, followed by a dark, thick substance that pours onto his face. He squints and gags as it invades his mouth and nose. He feels some of it crawling deeper inside him. The viscous intruder will not let him breathe. The indistinguishable lights on the ceiling are slowly covered by a black veil. 

Muscles strain against unyielding bonds and his feet kick futilely. He panics with the sensation of drowning in the oily liquid. His fingers twitch, and his vision begins to swim. Before succumbing to darkness, a whispered word escapes his lips... 

"Scully."   
  


#### If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Obfusc8er and bcfan


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